


sing your song, the camera's on

by bloodmoney



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Femslash February, Fluff without Plot, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22651612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodmoney/pseuds/bloodmoney
Summary: Azula is sick and grumpy. Ty Lee works with it.
Relationships: Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 135
Collections: Femslash February





	sing your song, the camera's on

**Author's Note:**

> short tribute to one of my first ever f/f pairs, that i still adore a decade later <3 not quite sure when this takes place, so imagine it wherever you want
> 
> title slightly altered from carmen by lana del rey

A kind-of-quarantine is understandable, given the situation. A lot of people are sick, some are getting sicker by the day, some are fine but using the situation as an excuse to stay home. It's not a serious illness, far from it, but they need soldiers and they need citizens in their best health.

Even if that means keeping the princess in the palace for a few days.

Azula doesn't take it well, of course. She rarely takes anything well, but being sick is worse, invisible shackles on her limbs. She's like a typhoon, nails digging into everything she can, trying to tear it apart. Fire blazing. Artifacts, precious silks for her robes, her nightgown. The edge of a carpet is charred.

"Azula," Ty Lee says, after dodging the third thrown vase, "please."

Azula just looks at her. Stares, face expressionless, stony. She looks angry, in her Azula way of looking angry. She always looks breathtaking in Ty Lee's eyes. "You should always beg, but please what?"

"Let me help you," Ty Lee continues. "Let me help you relax."

Azula laughs. "With what, circus tricks?"

Maybe. Circus tricks wouldn't be so bad. "An oil massage," Ty Lee responds. She's goot at it, too, or she wouldn't have offered.

Azula picks up a hairbrush. Ty Lee thinks she's going to throw that, too, but she just pushes her hair on her right shoulder and starts brushing it. "Okay," she says, facing the mirror. "Be quick. And throw the useless servants out."

It feels like a dimissal, in a way, even when Ty Lee is just leaving to retrieve the oils. She's apologetic when she looks at the servants, sheepish when she closes the door behind all of them as she re-enters the room. That means she'll have to pick up all the broken pieces, but she finds she doesn't mind, not when Azula is already lying on the bed on her stomach. Expectant.

Ty Lee sits at the end of the bed, gingerly pulls off one sleeve of the untied robe, then another. Azula makes no sound, even as Ty Lee knows she's growing impatient.

"Get to it," she commands, barely two seconds later.

Well, so much for no sound. Ty Lee settles above Azula's lower back, uncaps the small bottle. The smell is strong, jasmine and primrose fill the air, permeate the tension.

Azula sighs the moment Ty Lee gets her hands on her shoulders, kneading lightly. Circus performers should know how to care for their muscles, almost every day back then ended with her body delightfully aching all over. It still aches, but now it's less lovely, less of the strain of working hard to perform and more of the weight of work hard or end up just another body on the ground. Ty Lee, at least, can find pleasure in that too.

Just as she finds pleasure in Azula's small noises. There are no praises to accompany them, but that's okay. Ty Lee knows she's doing a good job. She knows Azula.

Every few minutes she'll press into a particularly rough spot, a tight knot that she can feel Azula restrain herself from... anything really. No sound, no movement. Ty Lee can feel her desire to flinch away, though, so she presses a little harder, makes sure to have Azula as loose behind her as she can get her to be.

She knows the massage worked because when Azula says _'Get off'_ , it's a little slurred, a little less firm. Ty Lee does, and she's almost off the bed entirely when she's grabbed by the forearm, forced to get on her knees if she doesn't want to eat the floor.

"Kiss me."

It's a command, technically. Ty Lee has to stifle a giggle at how relaxed Azula looks, but she complies, easily slots their lips together. It's chaste, because that's what Azula wants, but it fills her veins with liquid gold all the same.

Later, when she's sweeping and replacing mats as Azula's sleeping, Ty Lee is still smiling, still stifling giggles. She might catch this cold, too, but that's fine. She gets to add today to a mental tally of all the ways Azula trusts her, even when she doesn't admit it to herself.


End file.
